Nate had to admit something embarrassing to himself. It was weird, dorky, and might have even been technically considered stalking. Nathanial Thompson, at the ripe age of 19, found himself at the bookstore three more times in a span of a little over a week. It was as if his body and brain were possessed by the spirit of a 13-year-old with an insatiable crush. The first time he walked there after his philosophy lecture, the second time Vincent dropped him off, and finally, he had his mom take him there. He did, after all, still live with his parents, and when it came to their attention that he was going to walk there in the rain—they were more than happy to help out.
He found himself laughing at how pathetic it was. Even though he knew deep down, he was still in denial of why he found himself at that bookshop so many times. His excuses–in case Theodore or anyone else asked–was that he needed a book for his siblings, a bookmark for his mom, or anything else that was along the lines of that. Nate had excuses at the ready, anticipating for when he got accused of his actions.
Theodore never did ask, however. This was because out of the three times he visited, Theodore was never there. Nate had begun to grow hopeless, figuring that Theodore hadn't worked there anymore or was intentionally avoiding him. He assumed that this was yet another one of his romantic avenues that he didn't even have a chance to walk upon. It made him sadder than he wanted it to, and tore down his confidence ever so slightly. He felt stupid for putting this much desire into one 5 minute long interaction with a man who was just doing his job. He found himself thinking about the interaction in class and before he went to bed, and got thrilled when he allowed himself to visit the shop again. It was truly pitiful. He didn't dare to tell anyone about this, afraid his friends would—bless their kind and optimistic hearts—would feed into his fantasy.
He had decided to stop going after the fourth time. If Theodore wasn't there, then it was a sign from the universe that they were destined to be apart. Nate was really hoping that it was false; life had already thrown him some shitty outcomes, the least it could do was give him a crumb of a good one. There was a thought that nagged in his brain no matter how much he didn't want to think about it. What if there was never a chance because of my blindness? It was a sickening thought that came from the depths of his mind. He thought he had gotten rid of those kinds of feelings a couple of years ago, after he had moved from Colorado and fled from his terrible relationship. Intrusive worries that he was not enough and needy filled his brain, and he tried to keep them at a dull roar. He really didn't want to spiral again. He barely survived the last time it had happened.
On a particular Monday, after his same philosophy class, Nate found himself at the bookstore after school. It didn't even feel as outrageous at this point; his heart led him and he followed. The day that he visited was a particularly rainy day. Instead of wearing his normal sneakers, he decided to pull out his Chelsea Dr. Martens. They were plain black but were the nicest shoes he owned. They were also the only ones that withheld the heavy rainfall, which was necessary for the day's journey. Plus, he hoped that Theodore would be impressed by the style of them. Doc Martens are queer shoes, he thought to himself.
His heart pounded along with the droplets of water as he walked up to the heavy wooden door. He gently swung the mechanism open. The chime went off; the mark of another one of his desperate conquests began. He gently closed the door behind him and pushed the hood of his jacket off of his head. The warmth of the store felt brilliant as it cupped his cold cheeks. The scent and carpet was still the same as every other time. The only difference now, was that he wasn't alone.
"Hey you."
Nate blushed, immediately recognizing the voice. "Oh, h-hey."
Nate acted as if he was surprised Theodore was there, and not that he had repeatedly prayed he was a mere 5 minutes earlier.
YOU ARE READING
All Our Sensitivity
Romance"Are you always going to forget I can't see?" "I don't need to remember when we're kissing." "Weirdo." Nate was born blind. That was a fact. Nate was also gay. That was a fact that came much later after his six-month relationship with his best frien...
